Summer at the Shore
by SiriuslySincerity
Summary: After many mysterious deaths, Harry Potter has been sent to the Shore with Severus Snape for the summer. But how will Harry cope with a small town, his most hated professor and his professors godson - Draco Malfoy! And who is that mysterious man? R
1. Chapter 1

**Summer at the Shore**

**by**

**SiriuslySincerity**

**~*~ **Mysterious disappearances, deaths with no patterns and a sudden darkness over Little Whinging. For his own safety, Harry Potter has been ordered to spend his summer months at the Shore with his most hated Professor of all time - Snape! But little does Harry know that this beach side town is not just small enough for him and his professor, but is in fact far to small for him, his professor and his professor's nephew - Draco Malfoy. **~*~**

**Disclaimer:** _All recognisable characters such as Harry, Severus and Draco etc., belong to the author of the Harry Potter Series, JK Rowling. I have no affiliation what so ever with the author and am making no money from this story. It is pure fiction and all events, places and times are pure imagination._

**Chapter One: The Last Day of Term**

Harry Potter stood alongside the scarlet steam engine of the Hogwarts Express. His hand clutched tightly to the black handle of the third carriage. A gulf of white smoke billowed from the spout and floated through him, leaving an ashy residue on his cheek.

"Have a good summer, Harry." Ron said from aboard the train.

"Ronald!" hissed Hermione, nudging him in the ribs. "Of course he won't have a good summer. Don't be so insensitive."

"Well… You know what I mean mate." he shrugged apologetically.

"We'll write every week with news and information and tell you where we are and what we're doing and everything. You won't miss a thing Harry."

"Yeah and listen, I'll post you a few chocolate frogs and some of mums fudge. I'm sure she's just as disgusted as we are." he added with resentment.

"Exactly." smiled Hermione, nodding her head in encouragement.

Harry just nodded back, staring up at them from the platform. He was still clinging desperately to the handle of the carriage door and his mouth hung open, a look of wistfulness on his face. He hoped that if he hung on just enough, that reality would kick in and that he'd wake up from this nightmare and he'd be on the train heading back to London and the Dursley's and his miserable little room with squeaky floor boards and tattered carpets.

"Last call! All aboard!" Hagrid's gruff voice roared over the screeching of the train's horn.

Harry's grip tightened on the handle of the door. He mentally begged reality to kick in. Images of himself on his knees begging, while some sort of white puff of cloud with reality written on it swirled through his mind.

"Step back from the train Harry, it's leaving." Hagrid said, pulling him away by the shoulders.

"Bye Harry."

"See ya mate."

He stood, minimized greatly by Hagrid's great frame, watching the train chug away from Hogwarts platform, it's beautiful scarlet engine glittering in the sun light. As the last of the carriages rolled passed him, multiple faces pressed against the glass watching him and a few taunting him (Draco Malfoy), he couldn't help but allow his lower lip to jut out dramatically and he heaved a huge sigh.

"Now Harry, there's no need ter look so down and sad about' where yer goin'," Hagrid said, spinning him around and walking him back towards Hogwarts. "I hear tha where yer goin is a great ole laugh and ye'll 'ave the company o loads an ye'll have letters and all sorts from everyone at Hogwarts. Not forgettin' bou Ron an Hermione; they'll be sendin' ya treats and stuff and I sure will too."

Harry grunted. The prospect of having Hagrid's rock cakes sent to him did nothing but further darken his mood. His shoulders slouched sullenly beneath Hagrid's weight and his facial expressions matched his physique perfectly. He was aware he probably looked a miserable state and that was the last thing he wanted to look, considering recent Daily Prophet reports of him being a 'head case' and 'completely mentally depressed' ; but right now he felt that his case was justifiable. No one in there absolute right state of mind could be in the least bit happy about where he was going.

"Harry? Yer not sayin' anything'." Hagrid said softly, shaking him slightly.

"I know." he replied in a dull voice.

"Look it's not tha' bad…."

"Hagrid, it's more than bad, it's ridiculous!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air slightly, but with great avail as Hagrid's weight restrained him significantly. "There's no need for me to be there."

"You've read the papers yerself, Harry. Mysterious disappearances, unknown deaths and mutilations.." Hagrid shuddered.

"That's a current event in the muggle world, that's what Dumbledore doesn't understand. There's always some strange case or serial killer on the loose. Just because some nut jobs escaped from a muggle prison and went off on a killing spree, doesn't mean it's linked to me!"

"I suppose you thought Sirius wasn't linked to you either when he escaped?"

Harry sighed. He could admit defeat when he saw it on the horizon. That's what Sirius had always said to him. _'' Never admit defeat if it's staring you in the face, wait until you see it on the horizon, then change the subject and get the best of your enemy before he fools you'. _Harry's insides ached when he thought of Sirius. The pain nagged at him constantly. Some days he just wasn't sure whether or not he was living in reality, it all seemed to vague. Some days he would see a lone figure wondering around Hogwarts looking very like Sirius. The figure would raise it's head, it's black shaggy hair concealing it's face and as soon as Harry opened his mouth to call out, would disappear. The twisting pain in his stomach increased with each thought and every mental image felt like a knife being ripped through his insides. He couldn't even stare at the fire anymore - his face was always there, even in the mouldy ashes Harry could replicate Sirius's face.

Hagrid seemed to realise the damage and gave Harry's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze.

"He wouldn't have wanted me there." Harry mumbled, lowering his gaze to the wooden bridge they were crossing. "He'd have wanted me with him. Where I should be. Where I belong."

"Where you belong Harry is amongst yer friends and I know, believe me I know tha Snape aint the best o company. But he's a good wizard Harry and a great man, ye jus need ter dig deep enough ter find it. The Shore is a small place, I visited it meself a few times this year to collect things fer him, but it's a lovely little town and the people are great fun - very cheery." he smiled broadly down at him, his beetle black eyes twinkled with admiration. "An' that's what ye need Harry. Ye need something' to do and get yerself outta this ole castle for a while, do a bit of explorin and hey, you might do me a favour while yer there?"

"What?" he grumbled sullenly.

"I've got a friend who lives just outside the Shore." Hagrid said, leaning down a few inches as if revealing a great secret, "Ye can hitch a ride with any of the ole people I'd say, just ask nicely enough an they'll give ye a lift in there carts when there heading to the markets. You'd recognise him when ye see him I'd say, he …"

"Thank you, Hagrid." a sleek deep voice said from behind them. "You can leave him with me now and we shall take to the road."

Hagrid rose to his full height with a great heave. He shifted slightly and nodded. "I'll see you then Harry, soon enough. Don't forget to write, I'll send ye something nice." He winked and turned, acknowledging Snape on his way and then trudging back towards the castle. Harry stared after his frame and another pang of misery nestled uncomfortably on top of his other pains.

"Follow me, Potter." Snape said, turning on his heel and walking back toward the castle. Harry trudged along behind him staring fixated at the heels of his Professor's shoes. He was just getting into the rhythm of the clicking heels against the cobble stone floor, when he looked up and found himself in a part of the castle that he didn't recognise. The corridor was short and turned left, then right, then straight on, then left, then up a spiral staircase and then straight, and down four steps and finally a dead end. He halted alongside an armoured statue and peered at the large purple tapestry on the wall. Snape has his wand out and was running it across the width of the tapestry and then did some fancy flicking and twirling. All the while Harry was attempting to memorize the movements in the hopes that if he survived his residence with Snape over the summer, that he and Ron could go exploring down here next term.

The tapestry rolled slowly up the wall when Snape prodded it with his wand to reveal a wooden door. Snape opened the door and stepped into the room. He turned on his heel and stared at Harry. His face flashed a few different emotions but Harry knew that each and everyone one of them screamed hatred. "Enter." he said. Harry obeyed and stepped into the room. It was small, compared to the Hogwarts standard of mysterious rooms and it was oval, so Harry pretty much assumed that it was one of the many outer towers of the castle. There was a fire place on his right and a few standard wooden chairs and filing cabinets. Two portraits hung in the room: one of a young man with a peculiar hair cut and a goblet in his hand. He winked at Harry and nodded to the second portrait, then scrunched his face up and stuck out his tongue.

"How rude!" gasped the elderly lady in the second portrait. She crossed her arms and turned her back on the young man. Harry chuckled lightly.

"Potter!" snapped Snape.

He jumped lightly and twirled around to face the potions master. "What?"

"Don't you 'what' me, Potter. You are already on extremely thin ice and for your sake, you'd best behave. I'm not pleased about this, you're not pleased about this, so try and keep your insufferable personality to a low. Now get into that fire." He pointed sharply at the green flames in the fire place.

Floo flames. Harry recognised them. He'd used the Weasley's Floo network a few times and greatly despised it, but it was fun with the Weasley's. He stopped thinking about them, his stomach did a few flips. He stepped into the fire place and waited. The flames licked his shins in a ticklish manner and he tensed to try and keep any 'insufferable' movements of his personality at bay. Snape threw a fist of Floo powder onto the flames.

"Snape residence , the Shore." he said.

Harry felt the usual sucking sensation and was then whisked into the network. He passed multiple fire places. Some of them had children playing, others showed families having dinner, another showed a couple arguing. He tucked his elbows tightly to his sides, always fearful of losing a limb somewhere in the network. He whizzed left and then the sucking started again. He prepared himself for the impact of floor, bending his knees slightly and leaning forward a little but something caught his eye. As he spun passed a fireplace he saw a man; a tall, thin man with golden brown hair and tattered robes. He sat on a stool by the flames, reading and smiling to himself. Harry gawped at him as he flew passed the fireplace. He looked awfully familiar, but he couldn't place a name with the face. Whoever he was anyway he lived near, surely he must if he passed the fireplace close to his destination.

"Ouch!" he yelped, tumbling out of the fireplace in a heap. He rolled slightly and hit his knee sharply against a cupboard. Gasping he clutched it and growled beneath his breath.

"Get up!" Snape's sharp voice called, grabbing him roughly by the neck of his jumper and hauling him to his feet. "You've travelled by Floo enough to know how to land boy!"

Harry rubbed at his knee viciously, baring his teeth and glaring up at Snape. "That doesn't mean I'm good at it." he snapped back.

Snape pulled his wand out of his pocket and Harry instantly regretted his words. He stared eyes wide at the tip of Snape's wand. He wouldn't' dare….

"Your trunk." Snape said, throwing a small item at Harry's feet. He flicked his wand and the item grew in size to reveal Harry's Hogwarts trunk, it rested painfully against his bruising knee. Harry knew it was intentional.

Snape pocketed his wand again and gave his robes a quick dusting. Harry didn't bother. He wanted to carry Floo dust around Snape's house. The kitchen they stood in was tidy and neat. In the centre of it, facing the fire place he just tumbled from, was a the table with four chairs placed tidily beneath it. The cupboard he banged his knee against covered one wall; the top half was glass doors which held cups, glasses, plates and bowls. A fruit bowl and some papers and post lay beneath the glass doors, resting on top of a long chest of drawers. Opposite the cupboard was a long window which looked out onto a field. A few pictures of scenery hung around the wooden kitchen and above him a long string of random ingredients trailed from one wall to the next. It was a homely kitchen. It looked as if everything here was put to use. There were two doors, one next to the window which Harry assumed led outside and the second which could only lead into another room.

"Follow me." Snape said. Harry grabbed his trunk and wheeled it after Snape, up two little steps and out the kitchen door. The door opened onto a small hallway with an under stairs cupboard similar to his own back at the Dursley's.

"This is the living room." Snape said, pointing to a door on the right. "Ahead of you is the front door." Harry scowled. Obviously.

They turned left up a stairs case and came onto another hall way. "Bathroom on the left and on the right are my private rooms which you are never to step foot into without permission. Understand?"

Harry grunted.

"Understand!" he snapped, glaring down at Harry.

"Yes." Harry mumbled.

Snape walked down the hallway and paused by a small window. Across from his was another room. "This room is also out of bounds. You are never to enter it. Understand?"

"Yes. Never enter without permission." Harry mimicked.

"I never said that Potter! You are never to enter this room. You will never receive permission."

"Ok."

He pulled the trunk another few feet and paused behind Snape again. "Your room." he said and opened the door. He caught Harry by the shoulder and shoved him in, pushing the trunk with his foot after him. "You are to keep it clean and presentable at all times. I do not want any unusual odours emitting from this room, Potter. You are extremely lucky you are to have residence here, so enjoy it while it lasts." He slammed the door and left Harry to his brooding.

Harry lurched angrily toward the door and almost threw his weight against it in a temper, but quickly realised where and whom he was with. Digging his nails deeply into the wooden door, he scraped them downwards and clenched his eyes shut.

_"I hate this house. I hate this room. I hate him and everyone for leaving me here!_" he growled to himself.

Harry crumpled into a heap on his trunk and let his head fall into his hands. Staring down at the rug in the middle of the room, he let a single tear fall and mesh into the dark green carpet. He allowed himself a moment to feel completely sympathetic and miserable. Right now he just wanted to be in the back of the Dursley's car speeding towards his little room. For once he didn't want contact with the wizarding world. He didn't want his precious magic, or post, or broom, or robes, or sweets; he wanted his battered room, the neat little lawns in Privet Drive, his cousins punches, his uncles temper and his aunts interfering ways. He just wanted normality.

Sighing deeply, he lifted his head and looked around the square room. It was nice and neat with a large square window with dark green curtains and light honey coloured walls. The bed was pushed against the right hand side of the room and a desk sat beneath the window; a large cupboard was pushed against the left hand wall and a chest of drawers stood next to his bed with a small green lamp. Very Slytherin. Harry glowered.

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_Thus concludes the very first chapter of 'Summer at the Shore'. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please take the time to leave behind a review and leave your mark on this story. Hope to see you all in chapter two. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summer at the Shore**

**by**

**SiriuslySincerity**

**Disclaimer:** _All recognisable characters such as Harry, Severus and Draco etc,. belong to the author of the Harry Potter Series, JK Rowling. I have no affiliation what so ever with the author and am making no money from this story. It is pure fiction and all events, places and times are pure imagination._

**Chapter Two: Snape Residence, the Shore.**

Severus sank into the soft plump cushions of his favourite blue striped armchair alongside the fire. He leaned forward, resting his arms upon his knees and staring deeply into the dying flames. He stoked them with the poker, getting slight enjoyment from the crackling and the sparks emitted. As a young boy, fire had fascinated Severus, he even became so transfixed by the dancing flames that at the age of 8 he almost leaned completely into the fire. His mother had pulled him back in time and roared at him until his ears bled.

For a moment he allowed himself to forget the situation at hand. His attempts to mentally block everything failed and he angered himself slightly. Digging his nails into his knee caps he sighed deeply and closed his eyes. It wasn't that he was a miserable middle aged man who despised company of any sorts; it wasn't even the fact that he had an extra mouth to feed and pay for. It was purely down to just how unsuitable the circumstances were. Dumbledore believed the safest place for Harry was right beneath the enemies nose. Concealed away in a beach side house with a death eater slash double agent sounded maddening. Severus had tried to talk sense into the aging headmaster but with little effect, Dumbledore had his mind set and somehow saw sense in this bizarre arrangement. A slight nagging reminded Severus that he disliked Potter being here because the boy was exactly what the Daily Prophet was reporting 'Mentally disturbed'.

"Severus?"

He looked to the flames. The stern face of Professor McGonagall glared back. She wasn't too pleased about Harry's summer company, but obediently had supported Dumbledore's whacky ideas.

"Minerva." he nodded back, flicking his wand at the door, casting a quick silencing charm.

"I trust your trip went well?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. He could tell she was prying for information on Potter's safety and by the way her eyes darted around the room in search of the boy, a childish temptation swirled through his mind to panic her. He pushed it aside.

"It went accordingly." he replied in a heavy voice. "Is there something I can assist you with, Professor?"

McGonagall paused, eyeing Severus. "Actually there is. It's about Potter and his current… well, his state at the moment."

"You mean his 'Mental Instability'?" Severus asked, casting his eye to a daily prophet on the coffee table in front of him.

"Severus he's having a hard time and being housed with you for the summer certainly isn't helping; all due respect."

He rolled his eyes and leaned back into the chair, crossing his legs in front of him. "I too am neither pleased or understanding of the genius behind this. The headmaster knows full well the responsibilities I take upon myself during the summer; he is aware of my arrangements. He too knows of my regular meetings with the Dark Lord."

"Yes, of that I am aware." she said in a dark tone. Her eyes flickered to Severus folded arms.

He subconsciously tightened them. Scowling down into the flames he leaned forward and stared hard at her flame figure. "If you don't mind Professor, I have much arranging to do and many potions to prepare for the summer haul. Thank you for your concern but I'm absolutely fine."

He flicked his wand quickly and the flames disappeared. Getting up, he wandered to the kitchen in search of pen and paper. He knew that he'd pay deeply for cutting Minerva McGonagall from his Floo network and had no doubt there would be an owl swiftly on it's way to his residence, but he honestly did not need the interruptions of anyone at this time. Retrieving a quill and parchment from a drawer he scribbled a few instructions on the paper and when finished, headed up to Potter room.

Knocking on the door, he waited a moment and when no answer arrived, pushed the door open and entered the room. He found Potter leaning out the window, half his body stretching over the window pane and his arms flailing rapidly in the air.

"Potter!" he snapped, slamming the door behind him.

Harry jumped and nearly slipped through the window, but a silent force steadied him and pulled him in. He swivelled around to face Severus's angry face.

"What on earth do you mean by plunging yourself out that window and flailing dangerously about? Have you any idea how ridiculous you looked? Not to mention the attention you will attract!" Severus bellowed. He crossed the room and slammed the window shut, Harry cringed.

"I was just trying to…"

"Your behaviour so far is unacceptable, Potter. I warned you how thin the ice you thread on was and you've so far shrugged my warnings. Do not think because we are outside of school that you will not be punished for misbehaviour."

"Punished?" Harry gasped, widening his mouth. "Punished for trying to catch a letter Hedwig was going to drop?"

Severus bent down slightly and lowered his voice, his eyes narrowing to slits. "I see that your emotional state has not changed, Mr Potter. I will be reporting my concerns to Professor Dumbledore in an urgent letter." He then dropped the piece of paper on the bed and left the room, closing the door sharply.

Harry stood rooted to the floor. His hands hung limply at his sides, his mouth and eyes wide open in a fish like manner. He could not believe what had just happened. Snape thought he was trying to chuck himself out the window? His emotional state? He closed his mouth, sealing his lips thinly and shaking slightly. And now he was writing a letter to Dumbledore telling him what a nut case he was and how he tried to commit suicide because he's such a , what was it again? Grabbing a daily prophet from his open trunk he read the first page aloud.

"Oh, that's it_, __'A young boy with little to no emotional and mental support, whose capabilities are suffering and whose mental health is deteriorating at a rapid rate - for example his claims of self sacrifice when fighting dark wizards, glory hogging and characteristic of personally disorders such as hearing voices in his head.'"_

He stomped across the room and stuffed the paper inside Hedwig's cage. That's all it was good for. Saved him the effort of scrubbing the plastic at the end now. He muttered a swear of profanity beneath his breath and picked up the piece of paper Snape had dropped. The parchment was written in a neat script, familiar to that of his detention slips.

_**Breakfast : 8:30am**_

_**Lunch: 1pm**_

_**Dinner: 6:30pm**_

_**Lights out: 10pm**_

_**Chores: **_

_**Tidy room and bedding every morning. **_

_**Wash dishes after breakfast.**_

_**Collect groceries from Greg's Grocery.**_

_**Thin ice, Potter.**_

Scoffing, he scrunched the parchment into a ball and flung it toward the bin, missing widely and hitting the door instead. Breathing heavily he pulled a seat up to the desk and grabbed some pen and paper.

_Ron, _

_I'm stuck here in a cottage by the beach. It's a nightmare. Snape's himself and has already threatened to write a letter to Dumbledore telling him that my emotions aren't in check, just because he saw me hanging out a window. I can't stand three months here, I can't do it. I need to get out and quick. Write back as soon as you can. _

_Harry._

He copied the letter once more and mailed the second to Hermione. Leaning back into the seat he watched Hedwig's silhouette slowly disappear over the Horizon. He tried to imagine the reactions that he'd receive. Ron would be completely sympathetic of course, he's spin a few wild tales of torture for Snape next terms and he'd insult Snape which would make Harry feel amazing. He smiled a little at the thought of Ron's letter. He anticipated Ron's letter. Hermione, however… well let's say honestly that he knew Hermione would probably post him a prognosis on his mental state. She was like that. Harry would never admit it, but deep down he knew that by writing to Hermione, he could thrive on the attention and pity that she would give him. It was an unhealthy way to be, but it's all he had to live for. His two best friends, they were all he had and now, he had nothing. Right now he had absolutely no one and no one actually cared. If anyone at all cared they wouldn't have sent him here.

He curled himself up on the bed next to his trunk. Reaching into it, he rummaged about until he felt the familiar package. Pulling it out he peeled the brown paper back and nestled the broken two way mirror Sirius had given him in the palms of his hands. His own green eyes stared back at him, dull and lifeless. His once tanned skin had paled considerably and he looked drained. He became aware of the oily shin in his hair. The jagged mirror prickled against his palm, he traced his finger along the sharp edges, slicing the delicate nerves on the tip of his finger. He gasped and released the mirror, sucking on the tip of his finger. The blood tasted salty, like iron in his mouth. It was disgusting but he continued to suck the wound anyway, just staring down at the two way mirror which sat against his shoulder at an angle, reflecting his sick face.

"I just feel so desperately alone," he mumbled to the mirror.

In the kitchen below him Severus paced back and forth. He was rubbing his temples and the pressure wasn't doing his nerves good. He racked his mind for the right words. Dear Albus, I entered Potter's room today to find him hanging out his window, flailing about? Dear Albus, I discovered today that Potter's emotions were further damaged than expected? Dear Albus…. I just can't do this.

Crumpling the paper up he flung it into the fire and stared at the golden ripples quickly shivering with the flames and curling with the heat into a black dust. He took a deep breath. He knew this would be difficult, he knew that deep down he'd just have to get over the issue at hand; he had responsibilities, important ones. Potters residence here was not purely for safety of body, it was for safety of mind and health. The boy did not realise it, but he looked an absolute wreck and a ticking time bomb ready to collapse at any moment.

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_Thus concludes chapter two of Summer at the Shore. Thank you to my first reviewer **SnapesYukuai, to address your comment yes, you are very right about Harry having a lot to deal with and never fear, there'll be plenty of Snape/Harry emotional interaction. Did you spot Remus? Well, I don't know: did you? smile**_

_As for all of you who added this story to favorites and alerts, drop a review next time. Don't be a silent reader. _

_See you all soon, SiriuslySincerity._


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